


Polkagris

by spirithorse



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Sormik Advent Calendar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirithorse/pseuds/spirithorse
Summary: Mikleo brings Sorey to the far north on their tour through the world to participate in Meirchio's winter celebrations.





	Polkagris

**Author's Note:**

> I was invited to participate in the Sormik Advent Calendar by [flarelunari](http://flarelunari.tumblr.com). If you haven’t checked out the other participants in this, please do. You can find them in the [AO3 collection](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/SormikAdventCalendar2017). The prompt I got was candy cane. Happy Holidays!

Meirchio was lit by the glow of their lamps and the lanterns that were strung across the streets. The latter were brilliantly colored, all of them matching the northern lights that were dancing in the sky above the town.

Sorey tipped his head back to watch them, smiling at the lights that were twisting and curling in the sky. He hummed and rested his arms on the back of the bench, his attention briefly caught by the sight of his arm against the snow.

He wiggled his fingers into the snow, tipping his head to the side. He could feel the cold, but it didn’t have the same harsh bite as it had when he had been human. Sorey pulled his fingers from the snow, shaking it off. He might not feel the cold, but he would eventually. He couldn’t expect to sit out in the cold in light clothes and not feel the chill, not this far north and not at night. Then again, the latter didn’t matter much. Meirchio would be in darkness for the next thirty-three days, just like the rest of the far north of Glenwood.

Sorey shifted so he was looking back at the main street, watching as the people drifted through. Most of them were heading towards the upper reaches of the town, the parts that had been carved out of the glacier that bounded the city on one side. The best view of the lights could be seen from up there, just beyond the dim glow of the lights and lanterns. Sorey was tempted to join them, but it was comfortable where he was.

Since coming back he had found that he enjoyed watching people go about their daily lives. Sorey didn’t know if it was some seraph thing or because he had been gone for so long. The reason didn’t matter in the end, just as long as he was enjoying himself. The people of Meirchio were in a good mood, all of them just wandering. The stalls in front of him were still doing a brisk business in sweets and hot drinks. Towards the end of the street he was sitting on Sorey could see more shops selling gifts. From the glimpses that he could get of them, they looked handmade, possibly traditional crafts. He felt the familiar itch to go and check them out, but he kept still. He had promised Mikleo that he wouldn’t move until the seraph had gotten back. The trip up to Meirchio had been Mikleo’s idea as had the festival. Apparently it was something that Mikleo especially wanted to show him.

Like the thought had conjured him, Mikleo picked his way out of the crowd. The seraph was carrying two small bags in one hand and a cardboard carrier in another. From the steam rising from the cups, Mikleo had stopped by one of the hot drinks stands.

Sorey scooted over to give Mikleo room on the bench, reaching out to take the drinks from him. Mikleo gave him a thankful smile before settling back against Sorey’s arm. It was second nature to curl his arm around Mikleo’s shoulders. Mikleo snuggled into him, the seraph looking out at the people making their way through the festival before turning his attention to Sorey.

“So, what do you think?”

“It’s fun. But what is it.”

“I expected you to figure it out.”

Sorey huffed, picking up a cup from the cardboard holder. Mikleo reached over to claim his own. He raised his cup to Sorey with a nod. “Mulled wine. It’s traditional.”

Sorey took a sip, humming at the taste. The spices were excellent, but the warmth that came from the drink was so much better. It didn’t quite chase the cold away completely, but it made the cold more comfortable. Sorey took another sip, letting the mulled wine sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. He used that moment to look over the festival, this time with the practiced eye of a historian. It was obvious about what they were doing, it was the why that eluded him.

He shifted in place, leaning more against Mikleo. “It’s a winter festival. Part of it is to celebrate the lights.” Sorey nodded up toward the sky. “But most of it looks like a traditional midwinter festival. But I bet that means a bit more up here.”

Mikleo nodded, the seraph taking his time answering. Mikleo sipped at his mulled wine for a moment more before speaking. “You’re right there. We’re about halfway through the Long Night, as they call it. Meirchio remains in darkness for sixty-seven days.”

Sorey whistled, seeing Mikleo nod out of the corner of his eye. He turned his attention to the town, looking it over as Mikleo continued to speak. “There’s a week when the lights are the most visible and they always hold their festival during this time. It’s something to break up the monotony and bring in the tourists. No one would come up here otherwise.”

“So it’s a reason to celebrate.”

Mikleo raised his cup in a toast. “It’s a beautiful night for it. You know what they say the lights are?”

Sorey shook his head, Mikleo chuckling.

“They say that it’s Shepherd Sorey’s seraphim. Every year he sends them out to fight back the darkness. It’s a fierce battle to fight back the malevolence that takes away the sun but, when you see the lights, you know it’s almost done and that they’re winning.”

Sorey blushed, looking down at the mulled wine. It was a pool of darkness with sparks of light from the lanterns. The lights in the sky didn’t appear in the wine at all. It looked like the darkness that the people of Meirchio believed in.

He cleared his throat, trying to push his embarrassment away. “That sounds like an altered story.”

“It probably is, but it’s what people needed. Besides, it’s not too altered. From what I’ve been able to find, the lights are attributed to some Shepherd’s seraphim. It was only a matter of time before it got attached to you.”

“But you guys were wandering around with other Shepherds, how did they explain that?”

Mikleo shrugged. “Did they need to? Sixty-seven days is a long time to keep up your spirits. Besides this festival has been around forever. If anything, you were just tacked on.”

Sorey chuckled, shaking his head. That was an oddity in itself. Everywhere that Mikleo took him in their grand tour around Glenwood had made up something to celebrate him. Sorey had expected to be overshadowed in some way. Seven hundred years was a long time, plenty of time for more Shepherds to shine, maybe even beyond him. From what Sorey could see, none of them had made it. Some of them had gotten close, but Shepherd Sorey was still a standard that they held themselves too. At first Sorey had expected it to cause a problem, but it hadn’t. He was remembered fondly in most places and practically worshipped as a sixth Great Lord in others. It was baffling because he had never expected it. He had expected to be one name among others in history.

He watched a group of children run by, all of them laughing and pointing at the booths. None of them seemed to be interested in the lights, at least at the moment. Sorey didn’t blame them, not when he could smell something delicious coming from one of the booths. There was a line starting to gather, which meant that whatever was there was good.

Sorey looked at the booth, tempted to get up and join them, but he was perfect comfortable where he was with his drink in one hand and his arm around Mikleo. Besides, Mikleo hadn’t finished explaining the festival. It would be a shame to break up their pattern, especially when it had served them so well. Sorey had missed seven hundred years of ruins and history, but Mikleo had gotten the chance to see it all. He was more than happy to let Mikleo guide him around, at least for a while.

He rubbed Mikleo’s shoulder, dragging his fingers up to play in Mikleo’s long hair. “So what else did you bring?”

“Well,” Mikleo paused to rummage through one of the bags, pulling out two wooden ornaments on strings. He held them up, Sorey tucking his cup between his legs so he could reach out and touch one of the ornaments.

They were shaped like the lanterns that hung in the streets. Both were painted with the same familiar pattern of the Shepherd’s cloak but the center had different shapes cut out of them. One was a flower and the other was a stylized snowflake. Sorey turned the small model lantern over in his fingers before letting it dangle again from Mikleo’s fingers.

Mikleo carefully tucked the two ornaments back into their bag, a smile on his face. “I’ve been coming up here every few years and picking up one. They do a different design every year.”

“The Shepherd pattern.”

“A special one, in honor of Shepherd Sorey finally cleansing the earth.” Mikleo gave him a fond smile. “Last year they had little seals. They’re supposed to bring good luck and health during the winter. They also make everything a little bit brighter.”

Mikleo patted the bag. “I got one for you this year, just in case you still have your bad habit of rushing out into the snow the first chance you get.”

Sorey huffed, shaking his head. “That was years ago. Seraphim can’t get colds. Can they?”

Mikleo just smirked at him, Sorey groaning. “Mikleo…”

“I’ve prepared for that too.” Mikleo picked up the second bag, giving it a shake before opening it. Sorey leaned over to peer into the back, smiling at the sticks of candy that he saw inside. Sorey reached in to pull out one, turning the red and white stick out. The two colors twined around each other, Sorey admiring it before sticking it into the mouth.

He hummed at the burst of mint on his tongue, sucking on it for a moment before taking it out to speak to Mikleo. “Peppermint?”

Mikleo nodded. “For when you get sick from sitting out in the snow for too long.”

“I was waiting for you.” Sorey pouted and stuck the stick of peppermint back into his mouth.

He heard Mikleo laugh and then the rustle of the bag as Mikleo reached for a peppermint stick himself. Sorey looked back down in time to hear Mikleo hum and see him lean over. Mikleo rested his head on Sorey’s shoulder, the seraph snuggling closer. Sorey smiled and rested his cheek against the top of Mikleo’s head, making sure to keep the peppermint stick away from Mikleo’s hair. He could only imagine the complaining that would come from that. Mikleo was fond of his hair, as was Sorey.

He combed his fingers through the soft, fluffy strands before turning his attention to the festival in front of him.

They could go join the others on the glacier to get a better view of the lights, but Sorey didn’t feel like moving. Besides, after seven hundred years of sleep he didn’t want to go off alone. It was better to be close to the people, to listen to their chatter. Everything was lively, loud and real, something that his dreams hadn’t been.

Besides, Mikleo was warm against his side and seemed to be perfectly happy to rest there and Sorey was loath to disturb him. They got a good view of the festival and the lanterns from where they were. And it wasn’t like they couldn’t see the lights, Sorey was sure that there wasn’t a person in miles that couldn’t. Everyone for miles around was looking at the lights and seeing seraphim chasing back the darkness and the long winter nights.

As beliefs went, that wasn’t a bad one.

Sorey smiled and pulled Mikleo closer to him, Mikleo making a happy noise. Sorey pressed his cheek more firmly against the top of Mikleo’s head for a moment before turning his gaze upward to watch the lights dance in the sky above them.


End file.
